18

The bass thumped through the night like a second heartbeat, neon lights strobing over a writhing crowd inside the downtown LA nightclub.

Somewhere in the haze of lights and liquor, an owner of the club, with a history of sexual misconduct and the primary suspect on a homicide and rape case, was due to make contact with an unidentified individual.  Morgan and Karadec were there on a stakeout to catch him in the act.

"Eyes sharp. Backup's on its way," Karadec muttered, adjusting the wire in his ear as he scanned the scene from the elevated platform near the food stalls.

He didn't like this. Too loud. Too chaotic. Too many moving pieces.

But Morgan? She was already gone.

He blinked, did a double-take, and cursed under his breath.

Of course.

Down on the crowded floor, weaving through clusters of partygoers in a fitted black skirt, boots, and her red leather jacket, Morgan was playing bait. Again.

He tapped his comms. "Morgan. What the hell are you doing? Get back here."

Static.

Then her voice: "Relax. Salvez is heading toward the back lounge. I'm getting closer."

"Morgan—"

"I've got this. Don't worry."

Karadec exhaled sharply, jaw clenched. Every time. Every damn time she followed her gut instead of the plan. And every time, his gut told him something was going to go sideways.

Ten minutes passed. The crowd grew denser, and the music got louder. Morgan vanished from his line of sight. Her dot on the GPS? Glitching in and out. Typical.

Then a commotion near the back of the lounge. Movement, raised voices, and a flash of red jacket.

Karadec was moving before his brain caught up.

He shoved through the sea of bodies, pushing past dancers and drunk college kids, his eyes scanning every face. The adrenaline burned in his veins now, a rising panic he couldn't shake.

Then he saw her.

Morgan.

Trapped between two men near the back lounge. One had his hand gripping her wrist, the other leaned too close, smirking. She twisted away but couldn't break free.

"What the hell! Get your hands off me before I break your nose." Morgan struggled to escape from the men's grasp.

Something snapped in Karadec.

"Hey! Let her go!" he shouted, voice sharp and thunderous.

He surged forward. The moment he reached her, he grabbed Morgan's arm and pulled her firmly to his side first—his arm like a shield. Then he turned to the man who'd touched Morgan.

"Keep your damn hands to yourself, you son of a bitch."

The man sneered and pushed Karadec aggressively to the chest. "Who the fuck are you?"

And then he strucked. Threw a punch straight to the jaw. The guy stumbled back, swearing. The second lunged forward, and Karadec met him with a knee to the gut. Fists flew, a tangle of limbs and curses.

The two men joined forces to take on Karadec but he didn't back down. Fortunately, it didn't take long for the security and backup from LAPD to storm in. Pulling bodies apart, shouting over the music.

"Enough!" someone barked.

Breathing hard, Karadec pulled his badge from his belt with one hand.

"LAPD," he growled, holding his badge up.

His lip was busted, cheek bruised and swelling, but his voice was steel.

He walked near one of the men, and said through his clenched teeth, "If I find out you did something worse than touching her, I'll make your life hell."

The man froze. Then the cops cuffed and dragged him and his buddy away.

Morgan stood a few feet away, still shaken. Her breath shallow, jacket tugged half-off from the scuffle. She stared at Karadec like she didn't quite recognize him.

He didn't speak. Just stared at her with raw, furious silence. Then he walked off into alley behind the club.

She blinked, snapped into motion, and followed.

"Karadec!" she called, weaving after him through the thinning crowd. "Wait!"

He didn't stop.

"Adam, stop!" she called again, breathless.

Outside, the cold air hit her like a slap. She found him pacing near the wall, fists still clenched.

She caught up to him, heart pounding.

"Will you just stop for a second? Please?"

He turned, and the look on his face gutted her. His eyes weren't just angry. They were wrecked.

"I'm sorry," she blurted. "I didn't think it would escalate like that—"

"Exactly." His voice was sharp, furious. "That's the goddamn problem, Morgan. You never think before diving in."

She flinched. "I was following the lead—"

"No. You were being reckless," His tone hardened. "You go off-script. You vanish in a crowd of strangers without backup. And now, tonight? You walked into a damn trap. Do you even realize how easily that could've gone south? You knew we were inside the lair of a serial rapist and a murderer, and still, you got yourself cornered by two men. They could've dragged you somewhere and no one would've noticed until it was too late."

"I wasn't dragged anywhere—"

"You were grabbed!" His voice cracked. "You were grabbed, and I didn't know where you were. It makes me feel stupid whenever I'm not being sure you're safe. They could've hurt you. They could've—God, Morgan—"

He scrubbed a hand over his face, wincing as he touched the bruise forming on his cheek.

Morgan stared at him, stunned. "I can take care of myself."

He laughed bitterly. "You say that every time. Every time you get into something you can't control, you fall back on that line like it means anything."

She folded her arms, defensive. "Why are you acting like this? Why do you always get so mad when I put myself in situations like this? It's my job too, Karadec."

His mouth opened—and then he froze.

She stepped closer. "Tell me. Why do you get so worked up? Why do you act like every time I'm in danger, the world's ending?"

Silence.

His eyes locked on hers. Hard. Unyielding. Vulnerable.

And then it broke.

"Because I can't let anything happen to you," he said, voice low and ragged. "I can't—Morgan. If something happens to you, I wouldn't be able to live with it."

The words hit the air like thunder.

She blinked. Her mouth parted, a whirlwind of thoughts and questions dominating her mind.

"Why?" she asked, slightly shaking.

Karadec swallowed hard, looking away for half a second, but the damage was done. The truth had slipped out, too raw, too real to take back.

"Because you matter too much," he said, voice low and rough.

Morgan didn't move. Her pulse roared in her ears. She stared at him like she was seeing him for the first time.

Karadec's jaw tensed. "I don't think you've ever understood that."

Then, without another word, he turned and walked away.

He just walked—biting back words that were dangerously close to escaping.

Morgan stood there, rooted in place.

The sting of his words wrapped around her like a storm. Wild and heavy with meaning.

She had put herself in danger tonight. Which could have been worse, but all she could think about now... was the look in his eyes when he said she mattered.

And the fact that he didn't take it back.